


i’ll be by your side (you know i’ll take your hand)

by wolfwalkerspirit



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post Season 5, Romance, Season 5 Spoilers, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwalkerspirit/pseuds/wolfwalkerspirit
Summary: Behind tear streaked sight, she swore she could see blonde hair, falling down around her face to block out the light. There were liquid blue eyes, too, bright and full of some emotion she couldn’t make out through the blur. Catra wanted her. More than anything, she just wanted-“Catra!”Adora.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 195





	i’ll be by your side (you know i’ll take your hand)

The back of her neck burned. 

Every nerve sizzled and sparked, aching just beneath her skin. Panic clawed at her chest, taking hold with an icy grip. And when she blinked, eyes coming open, there was nothing but that horrid light, the awful chanting, speaking of cast off shadows ringing in her ears. White, pristine, blinding. Dark, chilling, deafening. Sight at odds with sound. The only thing they had in common was the unrelenting sense of threat bearing down on her. And yet, for a moment, Catra was left with nothing but her pounding heart and racing thoughts in the empty pool of light. 

But, of course, it wouldn’t stay that way for long. It never did. Panic rose higher as droves of clones came pouring in at the edges, all wearing the same glowing, green eyes, the same emotionless expression. And as they came, the chanting grew louder; the footsteps grew louder. Cast off the shadows. Step into the light. But Catra didn’t want to hear any of it, the noise pounding and throbbing in her skull. For a horrifying moment, all she could do was claw at her ears and try to block out the sound. 

But she couldn’t give up that easily. Gathering whatever strength she could find, fueling it with all the hate, the terror, the adrenaline, she scrambled to her feet. Claws and fangs bared, she turned in a slow circle, sizing up the endless wave of clones still marching, still advancing towards her. The shrinking space she had left set her on edge, feeling trapped in her own skin and itching to run. With every step closer they took, they cut more and more into her safe space. Or however safe a space she could find in this wretched place. 

The moments ticked by like thickened blood, slow, dark, dripping. Then, when the circle drew just tight enough that Catra couldn’t stand it anymore, she lurched into action. She threw herself at clone after clone, digging claws into the back of their necks or coming for their throats with bared fangs. She fought and fought, collecting a pile of ghosts at her feet, taking down a painstaking one after another. Still, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t fast enough, and the circle closed in on her. 

Breath coming hard and fast, blood pounding in her ears, Catra hissed and lashed out at anything she could get her claws on. Fabric, skin, chips, it didn’t matter. But the clones did the same. Hands grabbed for anything they could reach, tearing at hair and ears and tail. Fingers wrapped around her throat, dug into her eyes—they all clamored after her while keeping up that sickening chant. And no matter how hard she thrashed and struggled, there was no breaking out of the hands all holding tight and tearing her apart. 

“Little sister,” came Horde Prime’s haunting voice, like a snake slithering through the shadows. Catra couldn’t see him, not through the sea of bodies she blindly slashed and kicked at. Yet, he sounded all around. He sounded in her, in her head, in her heart. 

The back of her neck burned, and she remembered. He was in her head. 

“No!” Catra yelled, raw. Some primal kind of rage, of horror, sparked and caught deep in her chest.

“It is true that one must suffer to become pure,” he mused. 

The way he spoke, slow and unbothered, unsettled Catra to her very core, like his hive minded clones weren’t currently trying to tear her to pieces. Or worse, like that was normal, acceptable, admirable even. 

“But not all those who suffer see the light.”

Hands clawed at her chest. Fingers wrapped around her ankle, yanked it forward until she toppled to her back. For an instant, Catra’s heart lurched into her throat, beating once, twice. Then, they were piling on top of her. With inhuman strength, a clone wrenched her arms over her head, pinned them to the floor. Another crushed her legs down and held them still. A furious snarl ripped up her throat, drowned out by the sound. 

“You, little sister, will forever be trapped in darkness, in impurity.”

“Stop it! Let me go!” Catra shouted, raging against his presence in her head, his swarm of reaching hands all over her body. With all her strength, she ripped an arm free, slashed the clone looming over her across the face. But that instant of rebellion was snuffed, more bodies clamoring over her to force her flat to the floor. 

Her neck burned. That chip—it stung, sent ripples of pain coursing out down every frayed nerve like an electric shock. Tears blurring in her eyes, she thrashed and struggled harder, trying—needing to get free. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be all. There were still things she needed to do, to say. Still someone, just one person, she wanted to see one more time. 

Behind tear streaked sight, she swore she could see blonde hair, falling down around her face to block out the light. There were liquid blue eyes, too, bright and full of some emotion she couldn’t make out through the blur. Catra wanted her. More than anything, she just wanted-

“Catra!”

Adora.

With that voice, what was left of the illusion—had it always been an illusion?—fell away. The blinding white light shattered apart and splintered into dust, faded into darkness. The vast span of clones crowding over her gave way to an empty bedroom. And the face looming over her flickered and blurred, losing the soulless green eyes and cold expression. Instead, it morphed into warm skin, downturned lips, ocean eyes. And blood. Still half asleep, that took the longest for Catra to put together. But when she managed it, her heart seized in her chest, stomach knotting. Those were claw marks, slashed right across the center of Adora’s face. Over the bridge of her nose, barely missing her eyes. 

She had done that, in her nightmarish haze. And with that realization came fragmented memories too fresh and raw. The clone pinning her down—Adora was on top of her, too, probably fighting her panicked thrashing. The last ditch attempt of getting free, raking her nails across the clone’s face. But it was never a clone. It was Adora, trying to break her out of a nightmare. And Catra had hurt her. 

“Catra, you’re okay now-“ Adora started, but didn’t get the chance to finish. 

As soon as that voice, all soft and worried and so, so tender, hit her ears, all she knew was the blinding urge to run. Because that was everything she knew she didn’t deserve, not now, not when blood dripped off Adora’s nose and speckled her own cheeks, stained the edges of her nails. 

A crushing weight settling right in the center of her chest, Catra threw Adora off with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs, lurching off the bed like it was made of hot coals. But, gasping down air and fighting adrenaline shaky limbs, Catra couldn’t go far, didn’t want to go far. Because something in her heart was still tethered to Adora’s and she felt that sharp tug the moment she overstepped and went too far. So, she sunk down against the far wall, knees pulled tight to her chest, threading her hands through her hair. 

Right, her hair was growing out now. It feathered down by her chin, a few pieces falling over her eyes until she raked them back. It had been a while since Horde Prime cut it short, and she cut it shorter. It had been a while since he had been in her head. Since she had been in any real danger. That realization lightened the weight constricting her chest a bit, and the breaths came a little easier. The blind panic eased some, too, pulse gradually slowing with the space, the air. Though, as soon as something more like calm settled over her, she had the presence of mind to glance up for Adora, who was crouched just a few feet away, worried but waiting patiently. Just like she always did when Catra needed space. 

Taking the glance as permission, Adora moved in and curled against her side, finding a hand to lace with her own. Just that alone, the warmth at her side, the hand in hers, soothed Catra more than she would have liked to admit. But there was just something in Adora that knew how to settle her racing pulse and tame the leftover storm brooding in her head. Still, she couldn’t quite fix everything. 

“You don’t need to run away, you know,” Adora said quietly. And while she spoke, her thumb rubbed slow patterns into the back of Catra’s hand, soothing and assuring. 

“I know,” Catra replied, the words all but a whisper. Still, they felt like a lie falling from her lips. She knew. She knew that bolting from their bed, trying to outpace the shadow of a dream and the too real blood on her hands wasn’t worth anything, didn’t get her anywhere. But she couldn’t help the habit. It was easier, after all, to run from the things that haunted her than to confront them, all with Adora at her side to watch her cry, to witness her weakness. 

Still, strangely enough, it was Adora’s next words that made something in her chest twist, heart aching.

“It’s okay.” 

Whether she was talking about the nightmare, about the running, or just trying to assure her that it was safe, Catra couldn’t decide. Either way, it felt like a piece of her heart broke and dislodged.

“No, it’s not!” Catra shot back, wincing at the sound of her own voice, too loud in the late night lull. But whatever emotion has been simmering under her skin burst to a boil, hot and volatile. 

Before she could stop them, tears burned at the corners of her eyes, the truth of the matter bubbling up in her chest. Because it wasn’t as simple as a bad dream, wasn’t as simple as Adora made it out to be. It was just like her, to brush off her own pain, to not ever consider the claw marks scored across her face. Even bleeding, all she could see was Catra’s pain. “I hurt you. Why aren’t you upset?” she questioned, quieting a bit.

The words lingered in the air, leaving some brittle kind of tension in their wake. Because that was what it came down to. Guilt gnawed at Catra’s stomach, ached in all the soft places in her heart, and Adora didn’t even care. 

Those bright blue eyes just softened at the corners, and that was all Catra could stand to see before she buried her head in her arms, both propped on her knees. She couldn’t control it; something fond swelled in her chest, at odds with the cracked, raw feeling settled there. Because even now, even like this, she was still so in love with this stupid, dense girl. 

“Catra, you were half asleep,” Adora assured, something amused but warm slipping into her voice. And when Catra risked a glance up from her arms, she could just make out a raised brow, a subtle smile. 

She couldn’t tell if that made her feel better, or if it hurt worse. “That’s awake enough,” she muttered, just loud enough for Adora to hear. Then, something she hadn’t even been intending to say slipped past, a bitter, guilty thought given shape. The moment it was off her tongue, she wished she could bite it back, just to take the hurt off Adora’s face. 

“Why do you even put up with me?” 

In an instant, Adora had a hand on Catra’s cheek, catching her two toned gaze. And there was so much intensity in that look that Catra couldn’t help but feel her face color a little, gazing into Adora’s bright eyes. 

“Catra, I love you,” she assured, gaze never straying. “I don’t just put up with you. I never have.”

Swallowing hard, Catra just nuzzled into Adora’s hand, allowing her walls to come down a little. This was the whole reason she was here with Adora: to let go of the past and live in a better present. To be with the one she loves, previous mistakes and misgivings aside. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” she relented, the apology still feeling foreign on her tongue. Though, for someone who lived the whole beginning of her life without so much as uttering an apology, she had been doing quite a bit of it lately. There was a lot to make up for, a lot of people she hurt. But, they were still there for her, ready to accept the better version of her she so wanted to become. And, now, even if it was new, it was nice to be able to make amends instead of burning bridges with every regrettable thing she did. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Adora said firmly, tipping Catra’s chin up when her gaze tried to trail to the floor. “I mean it,” she said. In the dark bedroom, her eyes almost seemed to glow, soft yet fierce and brilliant all the same. And Catra fell in love all over again, affection pushing out the last of the guilt, the last of the nightmare fueled fear. 

The scratches on Adora’s face had stopped bleeding, too, which made her feel immensely better. Even if the damage was done, it would heal. No matter what the two of them had done to each other, the wounds always healed, in the end. Though, Catra was still so relieved that they were past that now, on to a life where they were more likely to patch up each other’s cuts and scrapes than cause them. 

Though, it was only when Adora quirked her head to one side, murmuring Catra’s name like a question, that she realized she’d been staring. “Hey, you okay?” Adora questioned gently, and Catra just smiled in return, a small, well-worn thing. She couldn’t fight it, and that was a nice feeling.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” she breathed, still in awe that she could say that honestly and really, truly mean it. 

“Good,” Adora replied, lips curving into a gentle smile. 

And, until morning rolled around, neither one of them moved from their spot against the wall. Catra, so grateful to the universe for this moment, just watched Adora fall asleep on her shoulder, blonde hair loose and messy. There was something so soothing about watching the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. It was reassuring, reminding her in each and every moment that this was real and that no one could take that away from her. Adora was here, with her, and the world turned in its axis without them. There were no monsters to fight, no portals or separate dimensions to deal with. Not anymore. And, best of all, there were no days when Catra had to wake up and go to battle against the only person she ever loved. 

Knowing that was nothing short of bliss. 

Somewhere in the early, grey hours of the morning, Catra pressed a kiss to the top of Adora’s head, warmth filtering out through her chest. “Thank you, Adora,” she murmured into that golden blonde hair, and she meant it in every ever-changing, all-consuming, kaleidoscopic meaning of the words. From being her first real friend to being her first, and only, real love. For saving her from Horde Prime, and for every moment after. For everything, Catra was grateful. 

Eventually, she fell asleep with her nose buried in Adora’s hair, their hands laced together, and a quiet purr rumbling in her chest. And, for that night, there were no more nightmares.


End file.
